Something New.

Left only to forever mourn from this morn for her on the floor born she is left displaced and disgrace with misplaced scorn debased she's replaced by her free base form. This inate storm like an inplace horn. For it is in her place to find space amongst those lowborn. Not to be chased or dressed in lace. She had been bred to instead be tending corn. And she'll be well worn and well warned, to disembody her own body and feminine form. Or else she be scorned. Failing yet to maintain or mention not by intention it was still their invention to see her poorly adorned. Bloodied and deformed with flesh torn. From the unborn and unworn first born unicorn. Smallest little flawless little greenhorn. Who's sadness like madness is contagious and airborne. Forsworn to be in born into the heart of her from which the child had been born. And ever sense torn she can only mourn. Intense laments from which to dispense her intent to resent a God who with ambivalence kills Innocents. Those who lack defense. But what she mostly laments is being left to contemplate her late ill-formed stillborn the great. No longer wanting debate. She lies upon her face prostrate. Begging to be freed from whatever deed caused her to be this inmate. In a world to which this girl can no longer relate. Without the word porn I create.

Big block of text ,it is hard to read and appreciate,spread it out a bit